


Reflection

by Johniarty



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, FTM John, Gen, M/M, Trans Male Character, Transgender John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-26
Packaged: 2018-03-15 09:03:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3441365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Johniarty/pseuds/Johniarty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John doesn't usually like what he sees in the mirror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> As a transgender man, I am 10000% here for more trans!John fics (especially written by actual transgender men). My aunt's been discussing buying me a suit lately, so with that on the mind I turned it into a small, clean ficlet.

"Johnny, are you ready?" 

The suit didn’t fit right. Shoulders sat too wide, it hung too low, the pants were too long… Heaving a sigh, John ran the comb through his hair one more time and tightened his tie. He wasn’t ready for this. 

"Just- Just give me a few more minutes, Jim. Please?"

Beneath the white material of his dress shirt John could see the contours of his binder. Stretched over his chest and stomach, it bunched when he moved. Maybe he should have gone a little more baggy with the suit…

Not like it wasn’t already baggy enough.

He hated it. He hated being short, he hated being broad, he hated the gentle ‘ma’am’ and ‘misses’ slung his way on the street. The catcalls, the slurs - ‘dyke’, ‘tranny’, even ‘tomboy’ bothered him now. Couldn’t they see?

_Couldn’t they see the face in the mirror?_

A life of hiding himself wore him down, left him ragged and tattered. Finally free to be himself, John still struggled with it daily.  _Joan,_ his ID read.  _Joan,_ his mail read. He couldn’t escape the first thirty years of his like, no matter how he tried. Maybe someday, things would change. Maybe, in the future, the world would see him for who he truly was.

"Johnny, I’m-"

"Yeah, yeah, I’m coming."

John stalked into the foyer, head down in his hand-me-down suit that lay too large on his small frame. Their romantic dinner would be a little embarrassing - Gordon Ramsay’s Savoy Grill, looking so out of place? - but he’d stomached worse. As long as Jim didn’t mind he didn’t see the problem, he supposed.

He was greeted with a warm smile, Jim looking sharp in his crisp black suit. “There you are… So handsome, Johnny, but I was thinking something a little more suited to you. Come here, I have gift for you.”

A gift? Frowning a little, John followed Jim into the guest bedroom. Spread on the bed lay a new suit, a dark navy with a crimson tie and pocket square. Perfect for him, but he didn’t understand.

"Jim, is that…"

"Tailored to your exact measurements, Johnny Boy," Jim purred, wrapping his arms around John’s waist. "A beautiful suit for the most gorgeous man in London. I thought you might like to have something that fits you properly. Put it on. I bet it’ll bring out your eyes…"

John ghosted his fingertips over the arm of the jacket, vision blurring. Yes. Yes, he’d put it on, and he’d never take the bloody thing off.

Ten minutes later he stood before the mirror, hair slicked back, the blue cloth clinging to his body in just the right way. Somehow it masked the curves of his waist, evening his silhouette and casting him in a more masculine shadow. Jim had perfect taste, and god, the suit really belonged on him.

"That reminds me," Jim breathed, leaning against the door frame. "We need to have a talk about your binder."


End file.
